Christmas on the Closed Ward
by adidi778
Summary: What was Neville thinking during the hospital scene in chapter 23 of OotP when he met Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny there? This is my take on it.


**A/N: Hi everyone, this is how I think Neville felt during the visit to his parents in the fifth book, when he met Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny there.**

**This is my first fanfic, so please: No Flames! Constructive criticism is okay, though. And of course normal reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anything connected to it.**

**Disclaimer 2: if other fanfiction authors wrote anything similar to this, please don't get offended, I didn't copy from you.**

Christmas on the Closed Ward

My parents didn't recognize me. Of course, I'd pretty much given up hope. As my Gran and I were leaving the hospital after our annual Christmas visit, I heard a very familiar voice shout out my name. I jumped; I hadn't expected Ron Weasley, of all people, to be here.

"It's us, Neville!" Ron called brightly, getting to his feet. "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"

"Friends of yours, Neville dear?" Gran asked before I could answer – _not_ that I particularly wanted any semblance of conversation right now with Ron and Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry, I wouldn't mind as much, at least he could understand somewhat. I knew the former three would treat me differently now, and a flush of anger started to creep up my face. I looked at my shoes, determined not to make eye contact with any of them.

"Ah, yes," said Gran, shaking Harry's hand, "yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."

"Er, thanks," said Harry. I didn't look at him; I only wanted to be out of there as soon as possible.

"And you two are clearly Weasleys," said Gran, oblivious to my discomfort. "Yes, I know your parents, not well, of course, but fine people, fine people… and you must be Hermione Granger?" she said, turning to Hermione. Gran continued the one sided conversation, "yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few tight spots, haven't you? He's a good boy," and here it comes, I thought bitterly, "but he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say…" she jerked her head toward mum and dad's beds, at the end of the ward.

"What?" said Ron, sounding amazed. 'Let's see how amazed he is if it were his own parents there instead of mine,' I thought darkly, surprising myself. Usually, I didn't have such dark thoughts, but my parents were a touchy subject. "Is that your _dad _down the end, Neville?"

"What's this?" Gran asked sharply. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?" I took a deep breath, and when that didn't calm me down enough to answer civilly, I looked up at the ceiling, and shook my head soundlessly.

"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" said Gran angrily, "you should be proud, Neville, _proud_! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"

"I'm not ashamed," I said very faintly, seething inside.

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" said Gran, making me even angrier – all I wanted was to be treated the same as everyone else, and here was Gran reprimanding me about that.

"My son and his wife," she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, "were tortured into insanity by you-know-who's followers. They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community," she went on, "highly gifted, the pair of them. I- yes, Alice, dear, what is it?"

Mum was coming toward us, wearing her nightgown. She was holding an empty Droobles Best Blowing Gum wrapper. "Again?" said Gran, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well, Neville, take it, whatever it is…" but I had already taken it, I treasured anything either of my parents gave me.

"Thanks mum," I said quietly. Gran said, "Very nice, dear." Mum went back to her bed, humming to herself.

I looked around at the others, daring them to laugh. All four looked horrified.

"Well, we'd better get back," said Gran, putting on her gloves, "very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now…"

She was right, of course, but nonetheless, I slipped the wrapper into my pocket on the way out.

End


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